Limits
by Comma to the Top
Summary: Everyone has limits to what they will do, how far they will go. What happens when even you don't know your limits? One-shot Tag to 7.04


**All the suspense of the first scene this week got me thinking. I decided to delve a little deeper. **

**Sorry if any of the details are wrong, I only recently discovered this show and am working on catching up. I'm nearing the end of season 3, but I definitely don't know everything yet. **

* * *

Michael slinks through the house, a shadow with a gun. His mind focuses on the mission at hand, although he hates himself for doing it. How many times must he do the wrong thing? He just wants everything to be right again. It's one thing when he's tricking a random bad guy, another to threaten an innocent child's life.

He pauses at the closed door, but only for a second. He knows the Michael going in may not be the same man who walks out. Slowly, slowly, he creaks the white door open.

There she is. He can see her, a young girl. His silent approach does not wake her. She rolls over, her teddy bear falling to the ground. She's probably dreaming happily, with no idea of what may come.

Michael stands, a rigid soldier, waiting for command. Now that he is in position, he can't stop himself from thinking. From beating himself up in his mind. The question remains whether he will go through with this, if he even needs to. Can he really kill an innocent child, in cold blood. Her father's sins are not her own. Michael knows this first hand. She is not her father, he is not his father. Right? He won't allow himself to be the man who made his childhood a living hell.

Frank Westen may have had his faults, but he wouldn't kill an innocent child, would he? Does even considering it make Michael a worse man than his father? The old Michael Westen would have punched anyone who suggested killing a child for a mission. Provided it didn't blow his cover.

Then again, Michael definitely is not the same man he used to be.

Could this new man kill a child? For the job of course, it's always for the job with him. If it were for the greater good, would that justify it? Or is it even possible to justify something like this?

He's not listening to Burke, he's thinking. His mind is not on the mission. This is not the Michael Westen he is used to. He's always alert and focused on the job. Although, the job has never demanded something like this.  
The tension is so thick in the room. To kill or not to kill. Could he find a way to escape without killing the girl? Could he risk blowing his cover?

Finally, the words Michael has been waiting for. "We're not going to hurt your daughter." He lowers his weapon. Relief courses through his body. The decision didn't have to be made.

As an afterthought, Michael picks up the stuffed animal that had fallen to the floor. He gently places it next to the girl, trying to appease the guilt that he feels. He didn't even go through with it and he hates himself. Such is the life of an operative.

* * *

Michael has returned to his house by now. If such an area can be called a house. He lays on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He is trapped in the pit of self-loathing. He feels dirty. How can working for the good guys make you feel like such a bad guy?

Not knowing what to do, he heads to the shower. The bathroom is tiny and grubby, but a shower is in order. If nothing else, he needs to wash his face.

For the first time, he thinks of what his friends, no his family in Miami would say if they knew what transpired. He can almost hear Fi's voice. "You almost killed a child?" Hearing the disgust in her tone only serves to make Michael hate himself more.

"I wouldn't have done it." He says this aloud, unsure of whether he is trying to convince imaginary Fiona or himself.

"I saw you! You were going to go through with it."

"No, no!"

He can see his mother's face now. He can't remember a time when he saw her look so disappointed. "All this time Michael. I thought you were supposed to be working for something good! Helping people. Not killing children."

"No, ma. I would never." But what is the point in talking back when you're arguing with your own head? You can never win.

Sam, Jesse and Fiona all join Michael's mother. Each of them looking disappointed and shocked. It's all too much. Michael barely grabs his towel as he dashes out of the bathroom. Away from the judging stares.

Back to laying on the bed. Wearing only his boxers, Michael thinks and thinks. It scares him that he was asked to do this, but he mostly is afraid of himself. Afraid of how close he came to murder. He had thought that people who hurt children were monsters. Tonight, he nearly joined them.

He flashes back to the scene. There he is, standing over the bed. But, the scene is changing. The little girl is now a bruised little boy, huddled in the corner of the bed. A lone tear runs down his battered face. The man standing over the bed is different too. Instead of a gun and night vision goggles, he holds a broken beer bottle. The little boy is Michael and the man is his father.

Frank is yelling while young Michael shakes his head. The present Michael makes an effort to return to himself, to escape. He doesn't make it before the bottle is thrown at him, cutting him right next to the eye. Present Michael feels himself floating away from the scene as blood runs down his younger counterpart's face.

Back in the present, Michael is frowning. He sees what a nightmare he could have been to the young girl, if only for a moment before she died. Absently, he touches the scar near his eye, the one formed in the flashback. He nearly was the giver of a scar.

Hours later, Michael has come to a conclusion. Anyone who can order the possible death of a little girl like that can not be allowed. As much a he hates the mission, not to mention himself, Michael has to see this through. If not for himself, his family or the CIA, then for the girl. It's the only way to redeem himself in his own eyes.


End file.
